


Absolution, My Wayward Daughter

by oftencarefulyetsorry



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Redemption, Sisterhood, mother figure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25662913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oftencarefulyetsorry/pseuds/oftencarefulyetsorry
Summary: Scylla Ramshorn has been sentenced to death. She has been shipped out to a Caribbean prison, never to be seen again. However, what she believes to be the end, will turn out to be the beginning of a whole new adventure.Raelle Collar has been stabbed through the heart. The end is imminent and she's dragging her sister, Abigail Belleweather, with her. But the end doesn't come. Instead, she must overcome unforeseen obstacles as she works to get back home before it's too late.
Relationships: Abigail Bellweather & Raelle Collar, Abigail Bellweather & Raelle Collar & Tally Craven, Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 30
Kudos: 179





	1. Caribbean Vacation

The ship, though it would probably be more accurate to call it a boat, pulled up to the wooden dock of the old and dilapidated prison and dropped its anchor into the choppy Caribbean waters.

Scylla’s stomach turned over and she swallowed slowly in order to keep the rising bile from flooding her mouth. Whether the nausea was from fear or seasickness, she couldn’t decide. Probably a little of both.

Scylla is pulled upright from her seat and is guided forward. Her head is covered in a hood that blocks her vision and somehow also muffles the sounds around her. All together, it makes for a very disorienting experience. She can tell that they had made it to the top deck by the intense heat emanating from above; the high noon sun beats down on her bare shoulders, already causing her pale skin to turn pink after just seconds of exposure. She really did tend to burn.

“Get a move on!” The rough voice from the navy officer behind her was accompanied by a shove that pushed Scylla forward, causing her to trip over the iron shackles chaining her feet together.

Before she could fall completely, the hands of another officer, this time a prison guard, caught her upper arm and yanked her up with a jarring pull. The hood is also pulled from her head causing Scylla to slam her eyes shut at the sudden blinding brightness.

“What do we have here?” The guard asked.

“Spree.” The officer spits out, and then she actually did spit right onto Scylla’s bare ankle.

“Oh, we’re going to have some fun.” The guard smiled in a way that made Scylla sure that they most certainly had very different definitions of fun. Raelle probably would’ve said that the guard has done birthday parties.

_Raelle._

No. She couldn’t think about her. Not anymore.

Raelle said she’d wished they’d never met. She thought Scylla was a liar. _She was_. A murderer. _Oh, if only you knew._ Thought that all they ever had was fake. _Wrong._ That Scylla never loved her. _Not true!_

Scylla loved Raelle. Loves. Still does, probably always would, until her dying day.

Which was fast approaching, it seemed.

“In here!” Scylla was shoved into a cell, her knees hitting the stone, followed by her shoulder and then cheek.

Scylla kept her eyes closed, biting the inside of her cheek to distract herself from the new cuts on her face and legs. The burning blisters from the shackles around her ankles already doing a decent job of taking up most of her attention. She barely heard the door to the cell slam shut, followed by a low pitched squeal as the lock was turned into place. Footsteps echoed down the hall as the guard walked away.

“You know, I don’t think this is what they meant, when they told you, ‘The way out is in.’”

Scylla sat up quickly at the sound of a voice, instantly regretting it when pain shot up her neck with the sudden movement. Fire scorched through her nerves, making Scylla wince.

The woman who stepped out the shadows was small and skinny, but her arms were muscled and she had a fierce steel-blue gaze that pierced straight through Scylla. Her hair was shaved on one side of her head, the rest braided into a long and thick tail that ran over her shoulder. She might’ve been blonde at one point, but now was predominantly gray. She was not someone to mess with. Though, Scylla had a feeling she’d already messed up somehow.

“Do I know you?” She looked familiar but Scylla couldn’t figure out why.

“I imagine you’ve met my sister, Willa. Way I hear it, she’s in charge of the Spree cell near Fort Salem these days. Really worked her way up. Or down, depending on how you look at it.”

Scylla cocked her head. _Willa?_

“Maybe, I never met the person calling the shots. Too low on the totem pole for that. Obviously.” Scylla raised her wrist, still chained up.

The witch before her took stock of Scylla’s bindings and whispered something intelligible under her breath. Instantly the cuffs on Scylla’s wrists and ankles clanked open and the collar around her neck detached at its seams and fell to the floor.

Scylla took a deep breath and rubbed her bruised wrists.

“Thank you. But won’t you get in trouble for…”

“We’re already in prison, girl. It’s not those chains keeping ya here.” She drawled.

A drawl that was instantly familiar. _Chippewa Cession._

Now, Scylla knew why this woman had made her feel as though she’d done something wrong. She reminded her of Raelle.

“What was your name again?” Scylla asked, cautiously.

“Didn’t.” The woman remarked harshly, her eyes hard. But then she sighed and looked up. “Though it’s not like it matters now. It’s Verity Collar. Though, most call me Rita.”

“Collar?” Scylla choked. _But Raelle was the last of her name. And she had said that her mother had died last year. She’d said her mom’s name was Willa, which would mean…._

“You’re Raelle’s aunt?”

“Raelle? You know my niece? How?” Rita tilted her head, “Well, I guess she’d be eighteen, now. Would’ve been called up.” She shook her head. “It was all for nothing, then. Damn.”

“What was for nothing?” Scylla questioned. Her fingers began absentmindedly scratching at her left palm.

“That girl was never supposed to take the oath. The whole reason I’m in here, the whole reason her mama and I joined the Spree in the first place was to give her a chance at freedom.” Rita sighed and slid down against the stone wall to join Scylla on the floor. “We were going to hide her, protect her from that life. Edwin too, though that would’ve been a little more difficult, given the Spree’s general opinion of civilians.”

Scylla swallowed and hid her face in guilt at the mention of Raelle’s father.

_Even if Raelle ever forgave her for the lies she knew about, would she ever be able to overcome the things she’s done before they met? The lives I've taken, all for an organization that hated people like Raelle’s dad, just because he wasn’t like them?_

Not that any of it mattered now.

She’d never see Raelle again.

“Who was she to you?” Rita’s question brought Scylla’s back.

“Who?”

“My niece. You knew her. But it’s more than just that. She was something to you.”

“No.” Scylla swallowed. “Not something. And not was. Everything. And still is. Even if….” She swallowed again,” Even if I’m not the same to her.”

“She sent you.” Rita snorted and then outright laughed.” She sent you, and you fell_” She laughed again, “You fell for her instead. Damn, Wills.” A tear slid down Rita’s cheek she was laughing so hard.

“It’s not funny!” Scylla was hot with anger. She was in agony about what she had done to Raelle and this woman, Raelle’s aunt, was laughing at her!

“No, “Rita wipes her eyes, “No it’s not funny. Sad is what it is” Rita finally got out, but her eyes were still filled with mirth, making Scylla unsure of how sad she could really think the situation is.

It wasn’t funny. And it wasn’t sad.

It was fucking devastating.

“You don’t understand! I love her! I would do anything to go back. Tell her the truth, from the very beginning. She told me she loved me but she…” Scylla tried to get the words out past her anguish that was surrounding her on all sides, “She now hates me.”

Rita looked at the girl in front of her. Really looked at her. Taking in Scylla’s dirty and worn clothes, tear-streaked face, empty eyes and sagging shoulders.

She reached out a hand and gently placed it on the younger girl’s shoulder, careful to not put any more pressure on the obviously fragile child.

“Listen to me.” She gave Scylla’s shoulder the gentlest of squeezes, coaxing her to look up. Scylla raised her eyes, though he hopelessness in them prompted Rita to move her hand from the shoulder to her chin.

Oddly enough that sparked an emotion in the girl’s eyes. Made her stare straight back in a way that made Rita want to let go, but she held on.

“Listen. I may not have seen my niece in some time. But from the things her Mama has told me, I feel as though I know Raelle pretty well. She never loves halfway. If she loved you, even the tiniest bit, she won’t be able to just let you go. So, you shouldn’t go giving up just yet. There is no way she hates you. She puts on a front, and it’s a might convincing at times, but that girl could never hate anyone. She’s a healer, that one, through and through. Gives so much of herself to everyone else, it’s a wonder there’s anything left.”

Rita held Scylla’s gaze until the girl looked away. She then gently placed her hand on her shoulder and gave her a comforting squeeze.

She then rose up, dust herself off, and offered a hand down to Scylla.

Scylla took the offered limb.

“You’ll be alright kid. I have a feeling, things are going to going to work out just fine, and I tend to be right about my feelings.”

“Prisoners!” Scylla jumped back as the guard that had brought her in appeared at the cell door.

“Or maybe not,” Scylla said out of the corner of her mouth as she glanced over at Rita, only to be surprised by a warm expression on the other woman’s face.

“Hello dear.” Rita smiled sweetly at the prison guard, making Scylla’s focus jump back to the guard just as flames wick away from her face revealing none other than her Necro advisor, Izadora L’Amara.

“Collar. Ramshorn. Let’s move.”

_Wait, what?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First work in the fandom, unbeta'd, and revised at 12 am. Might continue of there's interest. It's been a long time since I've written anything but I love this damn show so much, I was inspired. Thoughts and comments welcome!


	2. Aftermath

_“What would you do, if you were so in love with someone, and maybe they’d done something wrong? Something…unforgiveable.”_

_“Guess you’d have to decide if that person is worth it, and fight for them.”_

_…_

_“I’m in this with you and we’re going to figure it out together, okay? Whoever you are, whoever you were, I’m in. No matter what happens, no matter what anybody else thinks, I’m with you.”_

_…_

_“No matter what happens, I love you.”_

_…_

_“I love you, Raelle, and I would never do anything to hurt you. Please believe me.”_

_“I believe you. I believe you. I love you”_

_…_

_“I loved you.”_

_“I still love you.”_

…

_“Shitbird.”_

_Wait…what?_

_“Shitbird.”_

“Hey, Shitbird!” A sudden pain in Raelle’s ribcage jolted her awake.

“Ow.” Raelle rolled over and breathed deeply through her nose, stifling the pressure below her ribcage with her hand. “What the hell, Abigail?”

“It’s your turn to keep watch. It’s my time for some beauty rest.”

“You know,” she grimaced and shifted into a sitting position, pushing against the dry, rough ground, “I was stabbed through the heart recently.” Raelle gestured to the still wet blood that covered her black uniform.

_There had been so much blood._

“And you somehow survived. Not a mark on you. So now, you’re on watch.” Abigail smirked and pulled the scarf from under Raelle palm that she had been using as a makeshift pillow and arranged it into a ball to rest her own head on.

Raelle rolled her eyes and stood, moving slowly to the edge of the rock overhang. She leaned against a tree that marked the entrance of their shelter and looked upwards to the sky.

An abundance of stars shone brightly, reflecting light among the clouds that blanketed the dark abyss. The night was warm and calm, lacking any evidence of the confrontation that had happened just a few short hours earlier.

“I don’t know what you want me to keep watch _for_. The army thinks we’re dead and we’re the only ones around for miles.”

She wasn’t wrong. After the explosion, that Raelle still didn’t understand, the girls had been exhausted and had made it just a little ways into the woods before they’d collapsed. When they’d awoken, the Camarilla seemed to have vaporized and everything else; be it trees, cliffs, or even the dirt, was covered in a strange black film.

And mushrooms.

So many mushrooms.

They had searched the area for survivors, from either side, but found no one. No one alive, anyway. The girls had stumbled their way back to the trees where their fellow sisters still remained, their screams still lingering around their corpses. The bodies were still tied up, half charred and reeking of death. The smell was a gruesome reminder of what the Camarilla had done, _would do_ , to any witch in their path.

“If you’re not going to keep watch,” Abigail’s voice brought Raelle back to present, “Then at least go get us something to eat. I didn’t exactly get lunch before secretly joining this mission and all our provisions were on the copter.”

Raelle sighed and glared back at the other girl but found only the back of her head.

“Fine. Hope you’re a fan of fungus.”

Raelle stood and left the overhang and walked back towards the trail that lead to the chasm the unexplained blast had caused.

There, covered in black dust, was a cloister of what appeared to be cremini mushrooms. Common, ordinary edible mushrooms.

Just sitting out in the middle of the dry valley.

Nothing concerning about that at all.

Raelle looked around for a few more minutes for anything else more appetizing, even listening for scurrying animals or chirping birds. There was nothing. It was unnervingly quiet. As she listened intently to her surroundings, Raelle could only make out the sound of her steadily beating heart. Which was extremely comforting, given recent events.

_Mushrooms it is. They at least beat listening to Abigail complain about starving to death._

Raelle gathered the bunch up and brought them back to their makeshift camp. She wiped them off, best she could, separating the caps from the stems as she went, and used the edge of her scourge to cut the mushrooms into thin slices.

She had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

Her Mama had always been the cook in the family, and after she passed, her Pop took over. It was mostly TV dinners and cereal after Edwin had tried to recreate an old Collar recipe and they’d both spent the better part of the evening taking turns in the bathroom.

_But this was no family recipe tweaked over the centuries, it was just mushrooms. How hard could it be?_

Raelle found a couple of larger rocks and dry brush and worked to make a small fire. She then placed the mushroom slices around the flames, hoping the roasting heat would make them more appetizing.

“Not half bad.” Abigail came up behind Raelle and surveyed their dinner. She then plucked one of the mushrooms from the flames and took a bite. Her face immediately broke out into a grimace.

Raelle laughed.

“Not up to your standards, Princess?”

“Have you tied them?” Abigail spit out what was in her mouth and then wiped her face, the look of disgust not leaving.

“Well we’re a little short on spices at the moment. These are at least edible.”

“I’d beg to differ. Try it!”

Raelle rolled her eyes and picked up a decent sized piece and plopped it in her mouth. Her eyes immediately widened, and she began gagging and coughing, try to rid her mouth of the taste.

“I- “She coughed, “I may have been wrong.” She coughed again, wiping her chin, trying to get any remnants of the fungus away from her mouth.

“Yeah, no shit. I would’ve thought after all that time with Necro, you would have a better idea on how to prepare mushrooms.”

“We weren’t exactly swapping recipes, if you know what I mean.” Raelle joked, the smile not reaching her eyes.

“Gross.” Abigail retuned, noticing the fleeting sadness on the girl’s face.

“Well not as gross as this this.” Raelle gestured at the now burning pile of fungus, making no attempt to rescue the last few less charred pieces.

Raelle scooped up a bit of nearby sand and poured it over the fire, dousing the flame. She watched as a tiny tendril of smoke snaked out of the pile until it finally faded away.

Abigail sat down next to Raelle and rested her shoulder against the other girl’s.

“I’m sorry. About…” Abigail trailed off.

She didn’t need to continue.

“Not your fault. She chose her path.” Raelle chewed her lip and her fingers absentmindedly went to her palm.

_She wasn’t gone, not yet. She couldn’t be, right? I would know, I would feel something…or nothing. There would be a sign. Just…I would know._

“Well, at least you have better taste in partners than Tally.”

Raelle’s head shot up.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, didn’t you hear? Tally told me that Gerit thought he could have the best of both worlds. He invited Tally over, knowing Hillary would walk in on them. Planned the whole thing, thinking it would end with them all in bed together.”

“What? Man. He doesn’t know Tal at all.”

“That’s what she told him! I mean, in some way I understand where he’s coming from. I’ve certainly had my fair share of threesomes...” Abigail trailed off wistfully, only to have her shoulder shoved by Raelle who was smirking at her.

“I bet you have.” Raelle shook her head, “I’ve never understood you High Atlantic types. Moving from partner to partner, or partners. I’ve always been a one gal type of gal, myself.”

Abigail frowned slightly.

“Well it’s not that we don’t want that kind of relationship. Develop that kind of connection that lasts more than five years. I know I…” She trailed off, “It’s out of necessity. We’re dying out. Witches. Matrilines are ending and births are fewer and fewer. My mother has just one sister and I have…had Charvel.”

“I have four fathers because my mother’s first three marriages all ended in miscarriages. And after I was born, it was too late for her to try for another. Not to mention what another pregnancy would do to her career.”

“My mother never wanted kids.” Raelle said solemnly. “She only had me for my dad. They’d hoped I’d be a boy, though. So that I’d just have to make weapons and stay safe away from all the fighting. I understand that now, more than ever.” She subconsciously reached up to her chest, fingers absentmindedly running over the rip her jacket.

Abigail glanced over at her sister, seeing the darkness start to overtake her and thought quickly. She then smirked as a thought came to her.

“You know, when you see your Necro again, and you will, I’ll be there for you. Do you want to know why?”

“Because you’re such a good friend?” Raelle questioned, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly at the playful glint in Abigail’s eyes.

“Well that, sure,” She tilted her head, and then turned to face Raelle head on, “But also because I want to be there when you tell her that you were literally stabbed through the heart and it hurt less than when she broke it.” Abigail was full on smiling now.

“You’re such a bitch.” Raelle said but she had to bury the smile that was forming on her face in her chest.

Abigail laughed and squeezed Raelle’s shoulder slightly and shook it.

“We’ll be okay, shitbird.”

She then sighed contently and leaned back.

“You know, I think my father Abraham has a vacation home not too far from here.”

“Does he have many sons?”

“Huh?” Abigail looked over confused.

“‘ _Father Abraham had many sons….’_ ” Raelle started to sing. “Never mind.” She said at Abigail’s increasingly puzzled face. “Just a Cession thing. Continue.”

“Anyway,” Abigail said, drawing out the syllables of the word to make her irritation at being pointlessly interrupted known, “I know where we can go. If we head out first thing in the morning, we should arrive before noon. Abraham probably won’t be there this time of year, but there’s always staff on hand to keep up with the gardens.”

“Alright, but you take first watch.” Raelle slouched down and wriggles into a semi-fetal position.

“Fine.” Abigail huffed and stood up, brushing her pants off, only to stop suddenly and stare at her right hand.

“What the hell…”

“What?” Raelle turned over and looked up.

Abigail presented her hand.

There, right is the center of her palm was an ‘S’. It was an inky white that shined slightly at the tilt of her hand. Raelle scurried towards her and grabbed onto the offered hand. She then brought her own left hand up next to it and sure enough the ‘S’ that Scylla had written into her palm just weeks prior was there, as prominent and raised as when it had first been made.

“How in the hell did you get this?”

“Do you know what this is?” Abigail pulled back her hand swiftly and cradled it close to her chest. She looked hurt and betrayed. As if Raelle has physically harmed her, as if she had caused the strange mark to appear on her otherwise smooth palm.

“I …” Raelle start to say but quickly dropped to her knees and grabbed her head as an agonizing pain shot through her skull.

She heard screaming coming from right in front of her, and she squinted through the tormenting pressure to see Abigail had also collapsed.

Though Raelle knew the screams she heard must be coming from herself and Abigail, she could have sworn she heard another painfully familiar scream off in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the positive comments! It looks like I'll be updating once a week, hopefully. I would've probably gotten this chapter out earlier, but there were some slight power interruptions. 
> 
> Thoughts and comments always welcome!


	3. Connection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't everything I thought it would be but it's a decent build up for Scylla's side of the story. We'll get back to Raelle and Abigail next week, I promise.

“Izadora?” Scylla questioned, surprised to see her Necro teacher, or _former_ Necro teacher she should say, standing just beyond the cell gate.

There, Lieutenant Sergeant Izadora L’Amara stood in the uniform of the transport guard that had brought Scylla to this Caribbean prison. She was dressed in all black, large cuffs on bother her sleeves and pant legs, and a stiff collar with a small ‘V’ in the center.

The soldier in question glanced to her to side beyond Scylla’s view within the cell. “Ramshorn there is no time for questions. We have to get far away from here before Officer Hood wakes up and wants her uniform back.” Izadora said, waving the lighter in her hand in reference to the guard whose physique she had temporarily borrowed.

Izadora glanced back to make sure there were no guards strolling down this cell block and once she was sure the coast was clear she refocused on the cell door. With a swift hand gesture and a nearly silent utterance the lock on the cell door clicked open.

Scylla took a step back as Izadora entered the cell. She cocked her head in confusion.

“Come on girl, we have to get a move on.” Rita gently tugged on her arm.

Scylla ignored her and continued to stare at Izadora.

“You’re Spree?” she managed to get out after she finished processing what was happening.

_They’d been watching me this whole time._

“Of course.” Izadora said, like it was obvious.

“Someone had to keep their eyes on you after you failed your first assignment. You weren’t my main priority, by any means. Though, after the Tippet incident you certainly should have been.”

“Tippet…” Scylla’s eye widened, “You’re the one that was controlling Porter during the death current!” She exclaimed.

_I should have known I’d messed that up too._

“Yes. And I really should have kept a closer eye on you after that disaster. Honestly, Scylla, throwing the boy off a roof during Beltane? What were you thinking?”

“He was suspicious! He could have turned me in to Alder or-“

“He wasn’t suspicious!” Izadora cut her off. “He was jealous. There were so many other plays you could have gone with, but instead you have him commit suicide in broad daylight!”

“Enough,” Rita stepped in between the two women, “What’s done is done. Now I’ve been here a might longer than I’d like, so we really ought to be going. What’s the plan, dear?” She placed her hand gently om Izadora’s shoulder.

Scylla eyed the two women warily. They seemed oddly familiar with each other.

_It’s like they’re family._

Izadora closed her eyes and took a deep breath to center herself. She then opened them and refocused on Rita. “Our associates in the Navy have left us a small HSIC on the northwest coast of the island. We’ll board the vessel and head sixty-four miles east where we’ll rendezvous with our transport. There, you and Ramshorn will be transported back to the safe house in West Roxbury and I’ll return back to Fort Salem.”

“How are you even here now? You must’ve been gone a nearly a day. Surely, Alder will notice you’re missing?” Scylla asked.

“The general is currently on an unsanctioned mission in China attempting to rescue the last of the Tarim. She’s still adamant that the Spree are to blame for the attempted genocide of their people and continues to ignore the mounting evidence of the Camarilla’s return. Sergeant Quartermaine is in charge in her absence. She’s too busy rounding up the culprits of an attempted coup after the Belleweather unit told Petra Belleweather of the Spree’s presence and your detainment.” Izadora explained. “It’s been a busy few days.”

“Ah, Petra. Always been too big for her boots, that one.” Rita shook her head.

“And her daughter’s no different.” Scylla added, thinking back to her interactions with the younger Belleweather.

“Previously, I’s agree with you. Though before I left I heard she’d given up her chance to go to War College to follow her unit on a suicide mission.” Izadora said.

“What do you mean, suicide mission?” Scylla’s heart sunk “Raelle graduated. She wasn’t shipped out! She’s the best fixer in her year! There’s no way she didn’t get into War College!” 

“Alder assigned the unit to follow her to China to rescue the Tarim from what she believes is the Spree. They left yesterday morning. Our intel indicates they’ll be walking straight into a Camarilla trap any minute now.”

“And you just let them go!?” Scylla shouted.

“Keep your voice down!” Izadora said in a whispered command, “Collar was your mission. And you failed.”

Scylla bit her tongue and shrunk back.

“For some reason, those above me believe you’re still of value, so, I’ll return you to Boston and get back to my own priorities. If Alder and the others die on this reckless crusade, that may be the best thing we can ask for.”

“Hey now, that’s my niece you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” Rita’s eye’s darkened, her expression eerily similar to that of Raelle’s the last time Scylla saw her.

“My apologies.” Izadora looked rightfully admonished. “Now, we really have to get going. We’ll have more time to bring you both up to speed once we reach the boat.”

Izadora walked back to the cell door and peered down the hallway.

“We’re all clear. We just need to head down the –“

She was cut off by Scylla’s sudden bout of coughing. The girl had gone pale and sweat dripped down from her brow.

Scylla brought her hand to her chest and clutched them there.

_Fire._

_Ice._

The conflicting feeling crept all through her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“What in the hell...” Rita said as she helplessly stared at the girl who was gasping before her.

“Ramshorn!” Izadora rushed forward and grabbed Scylla just as she fell to her knees.

Izadora helped her gently to the ground and gingerly pulled Scylla’s hands away from her chest to see what was causing the girl before her to suddenly look like she was at death’s door.

There was nothing there.

Nothing on her chest anyway.

Scylla’s hands were covered in blood.

“Where’s that blood coming from?” Rita dropped down to the girl. “Girl! Girl, look at me!” Scylla’s eyes struggled to focus on the voice calling to her.

As she tried to keep her eyes open, she felt an incredible burning sensation on her skin.

_Warm, like sunlight._

_No, too hot, too hot!_

It was as if there was a raging fire roaring right next to her. She heard the sound of engines roaring in her ears.

She blinked.

Silence.

A flash of dessert terrain.

_Blink._

Warm sticky blood flowing down her chest.

_Blink._

_“I love you, shitbird.”_

Scylla groaned as an incredible pressure starting from her hand moved through her veins and infiltrated her whole body.

Izadora and Rita looked at each other haplessly as a black webbing started to cover the body of the young girl before them.

“How….” Izadora blanched as she recognized the disease that had covered the young Tarim girl just a few weeks ago take over Scylla’s prone form.

And then, in flash, all the webbing swiftly sucked backwards and centered itself on Scylla’s left hand, where it stayed, marking her veins with a black outline. The girl began gasping as if she had just come up from underwater.

“Hey, hey now, you’re alright.” Rita soothed and gently rubbed Scylla’s back. Scylla could feel a healing touch begin to tingle through her shirt and swiftly shifted away from it, despite the enormous effort that it took to do so.

_I can’t let her in. Not her._

“I’m…” Scylla coughed again, “I’m good.” She wiped the corner of her mouth and a small line of blood came away with her hand.

_What was going on?_

“Well at least let me take a look, alright?” Rita moved to adjust the fabric of Scylla’s shirt that covered her chest, right above her heart. “Nothing there. Huh. Dora dear, have you any idea what this is all about?” The older women looked over her shoulder to the other soldier.

Izadora’s head was cocked as if she was listening in on a conversation from far away. Her eyes then widened, and she refocused on the scene before her.

“Mycelium.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for any thoughts and comments! It really motivates me to tell this story that is constantly evolving in my brain. And if anyone is interested in being a Beta let me know!


	4. Gut Punch

Raelle vomited into the sand.

She coughed as sweat dripped down her face and the back of her neck, her body slowly recovering. Echoes of intense pain reverberated in her head, pulsing behind her eyes, and she tried to hold back another bought of nausea that was rising to her mouth.

She’d never experienced such physical agony before in her life.

Gingerly, Raelle moved to her back, cautiously supporting herself on her palms as she waited to see if the torment would continue. 

“What…the hell…was that?” Abigail groaned as she slowly sat up, cradling her head in her hands.

Raelle closed her eyes and swallowed back the remaining bile in her mouth. She took a deep breath through her nose and released it slowly. “No idea.”

The pain that had come on so suddenly had disappeared in the same manner.

“It’s gone.”

Raelle looked over at Abigail. The other girl was looking at her smooth palm. Raelle immediately looked down at her own palms, not entirely sure what she was hoping to find.

They were also free of any markings.

Her stomach sank.

“Scylla….” She started fearfully, but then stopped as the dread started to overtake her.

_Pain._

_So much pain._

_And then nothing._

_Did this mean she was…?_

_No._

Raelle couldn’t finish the thought.

“What’s this have to do with Necro?” Abigail asked, with a hint of accusation in her voice.

“Before…” Raelle swallowed, struggling to explain her hypothesis, “Before the wedding, I gave Scylla a combat charm. And she gave me something in return.” She offered up her palm as an explanation.

“What is it?” Abigail asked, not understanding. She looked down at her palm again but found no remnants of the marking that had been there. “What did she give you?”

“She said it was some work she made up herself. A way to communicate with me somehow.”

“So, what does that have to do with me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why did it appear on my skin?”

“I don’t know”

“And why was it all white and weird?”

“I don’t know!” Raelle finally yelled to stop the other girl. She took a deep breath, “I don’t know what is going on, Abigail. Scylla gave me the mark weeks ago and it only appeared one other time. When she was being help at Fort Salem. When they were torturing her, and she wanted to reach out. It was her way of letting me know she was still alive.” Raelle closed her eyes briefly as the memory of seeing her girlfriend tied up in the basement of the Necro building.

“But the mark she gave me just looked like my own raised skin.” She continued, “I don’t know why yours is different, or how you even have…”She trailed off, her eyes widening.

“What?” Abigail pushed when Raelle stayed silent.

“The wall.”

“Huh?”

“The wall!” Raelle stood up and staggered over to the nearest patch of black inky mushrooms, pointing at it. “I touched the wall…and there was that scab…Byron said it looked necrotic…but then it was gone! After I healed Khalida! And then the boy….and he was better too! And I was stabbed….and then the explosion…and now there’s not even a scar!” She looked over at Abigail as if she just explained everything so clearly.

“Hold up, you touched a wall? What are you talking about?”

Raelle sighed, dragging her hands down her face in frustration.

“There’s this wall, some kind of living fungus wall in the Necro building. When I was looking for Scylla there, I found it instead. It was like it was calling to me. So, I touched it. Just for a second! And afterwards I had this weird gray scab, like the way Scylla’s mark looked on your hand. But after I healed Khalida it went away. And it must have taken the disease that she had with it. Normally, when I heal someone, I take on whatever they had that was hurting them, like I’d said. I think…I think the wall and I are connected somehow…” She trailed off and wrung her hands together in a worrying motion.

“And now, because I tried to heal you… I’m connected to you.” Abigail added.

“And Scylla.”

Abigail made a face at that realization, but the disgust quickly changed to concern when another thought struck her.

“So, the pain we just felt…you think that was from Scylla?”

“It would make sense.” Raelle confirmed. “She’s supposed to be in prison right now, and I can’t imagine being a spree agent and a former dodger mean's she's in for a day at the spa.”

“Huh.” Abigail stood decisively. “Then we have to get back to Fort Salem. Now” She quickly went over to their makeshift camp and gathered her jacket and scarf.

“Woah. What’s the rush? Why can’t we just wait here until the search party comes back looking for us?”

“They think we’re dead. You know better than anyone that that means no one will come back for us. It’s a waste resources. Especially now that Alder knows about the Camarilla. Some dead privates are of little concern now that they’re back.” She put her scarf around her neck and pulled her jacket on. “Scylla was sent to a military prison where she’s considered a traitor to her country. Standard penalty for terrorists is execution.”

“And if Scylla dies…” Raelle trailed off as the realization sunk in.

“We die too.” Abigail nodded. “So come on,” She pulled a map out of her front jacket pocket. “We have a long walk ahead of us.”

“Always the soldier, Belleweather.”

***

“I think I’m going to have to say Lobster.”

“That sea insect, really? That’s the first food you want when we get back home?”

“Some of us don’t live near the ocean, Abigail.”

“Well, I’m going to have a whole pizza, all to myself.”

“With mushrooms on it?”

“Don’t even joke about that, Raelle. I think your sad attempt has put me off the fungus forever.”

***

“Hm…I think Adil was my… fourth this year. Although, I certainly got close with Daniel from my Economics class my senior year. Oof, talk about a chiseled jawline on that boy.”

“So, what you’re saying is you hooked up with five guys since January? That’s just too much.”

“Aw was Scylla your first Raelle?”

“No! She was my… second.”

“Was the first one your babysitter?”

“Actually, it was the captain of my lacrosse team. The things she would do with her hands…”

“You’re such a bottom.”

“Hey!”

***

“I can’t say I’ve ever thought about it.”

“You’re saying you’ve never considered a career outside the military?

“Belleweathers become generals. That’s just the way it is. From conscription to War College to our own command. There’s no other path. What about you? If you didn’t have to join, what would you be? Some kind of doctor?”

“Probably. Or a mechanic, like my Pop. It’s still fixin’, just machines instead of people. And sometimes making sure the tractor’s running is worth more than being able to cure the farmer’s hangover.”

“Raelle the grease monkey. I could see it.”

***

“Please, tell me we’re almost there? I’m dying.”

“No, you’re not. I would know.” Abigail side eyed Raelle. She stopped her whining immediately. “There. It’s the house at the end of the road.” She stopped at the crest of the hill they had been climbing and pointed off to the distance.

The house, as Abigail described it, stopped Raelle in her tracks.

Right where the horizon met the mountains, were three enormous stone buildings. Each structure had a tall tower feature, tin roofs that reflected the desert sun and were surrounded by impressive gardens. There was a stone wall that surrounded the property, with a wooden gate near the center building.

“House? You call that a _house_? That’s a castle! There’s no way only one person lives there.”

“Of course not. There is always has a full staff on hand that watches over the property, even when Abraham is not here. They live there.” She pointed to a smaller, yet equally impressive, stone building that was further down the path.

“So how often have you come out here?” Raelle asked, still taking in the scenery.

“Never. My mother and Abraham haven’t exactly been on good terms for years. He fulfills his social obligations as a Belleweather husband, but he always leaves as soon it’s socially acceptable to do so. He’d left Charvel’s…the wedding as soon as the vows were finished.”

“Harsh.” Raelle lifted hand to Abigail’s shoulder, but was immediately brushed off.

“Please, don’t bother. High Atlantic husbands are all the same. They’re all looking to upgrade their personal status by leeching off whatever poor witch crosses their path. The longer and more revered the matriline, the better. “

“Okay then.” Raelle said, trying to get off an obviously sore subject. “Let’s get down there and see if there is something to eat.”

“Goddess, if you complained about food anymore I’d think I was here with Tally.”

“It’s been nearly two days of trudging through the desert, Abigal! And I was stabbed!”

“Come on, shitbird.” Abigail pulled the other girl down the hill.

***

“It went off without a hitch.” The woman on the phone twirled the cord in her hand as she listened to the voice on the other end. “Fine a small hitch. Tinsy winsy.” She made a gesture with her hand, pressing her thumb and pointer together. “Well, okay that was unfortunate, but neither of us liked Hubbard, so that was certainly no big loss.”

“No, not yet, but I’ve heard our partners in the west are just about ready for phase two.” She hummed as she listened but then bristled. “That doesn’t matter! This has been decades in the making and I won’t let-“She stopped suddenly as she turned to see two ragged soldiers standing under the archway of the room. “Goddess, I’m going to have to call you back.” She slammed the phone down and stared openly.

“Abigail, you’re alive.”

“Hello, Claire.”

“What’s happening?” Raelle whispered to Abigail out of the corner of her mouth.

She was forced to take a step back as the stranger before her ran forward and pulled Abigail into a tight hug.

“I’d just heard the terrible news! But you’re okay!” She pulled back and grasped Abigail’s face in her hands. “Oh, thank the Goddess! I was distraught! Absolutely wrecked! But here you are!” She kissed Abigail on the forehead and then pulled her back into her crushing arms as the soldier stood there awkwardly. “My little sister is still alive!”

“Sister?”


	5. Reprieve?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter, but it's a little longer I think it will be worth it!

_Mycelium._

_I was familiar, more than familiar, with the fungus colony that was spread all throughout the grounds of Fort Salem._

_There were many afternoons I’d spent learning and analyzing its properties. Trying to understand just how it worked. Izadora once assigned us a ten-thousand word paper on its uses in decomposing common organic compounds. If you were especially lucky, as I had thought I was (though now wonder if it had just been a test for the Spree), you would be allowed to experiment with the wall itself. We had to take samples to use on different animal remains, recording how it reacted to the tissue, muscles and bones separately and again as an entire specimen._

_It had been fascinating._

_Though decomposition was not the only use of the colony. It was rumored that some witches long ago had used it to form a bond that would allow for the sharing of thoughts, feelings, strengths...and burdens._

_But as with most things that had to do with works that Alder had accumulated (stolen) over the years, its secrets remained its own._

_Until Raelle…._

“She’s dead, isn’t she?” Scylla’s voice was monotone, her eyes glazed over as she stared straight ahead.

Rita’s head swiveled between Scylla and Izadora.

“Who’s dead?” She asked the question, but her heart sunk further when neither witch responded, confirming what she already knew. “No. No, you can’t mean…Dora tell me she doesn’t mean _that_!”

Izadora’s gaze refocused as she finished listening to the incoming report.

“There have been multiple fatalities from Alder’s mission.” She began, “The Camarilla attacked the landing party first, there were no survivors. Then the rescue party returned. A second attack commenced resulting in the deaths of two of Alder’s Biddies, as well as Privates Belleweather and…” She swallowed. “And Collar. All bodies have been left for collection at a later date, once the area has been secured.”

Rita fell to her knees, “Goddess.”

Her niece, her precious niece that had such a bright future ahead of her, was gone.

She looked over at Scylla. Based on the dried blood that still covered her chest, Rita had a horrible image of just how Raelle’s death had occurred. A sharp object, perhaps a sword, straight through the heart. Blood would pool slowly, and death would occur within minutes. Agonizing minutes where Raelle would know she was dying but not be able to stop it. Even the most talented of healers would not have been able to pull her back from such an injury.

So, she was most assuredly gone. 

But Scylla was not.

The woman she knew her niece had lived was still alive.

Though her body looked empty, like she was only a husk of the person she had once been, her lungs still rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

“Girl. Girl, are you alright?” Rita put her hand on Scylla’s shoulder, shaking her lightly.

“Why…Why am I still here?” She looked so lost as she asked the question. “I should be dead. She should have taken my life to save hers! Why didn’t she?” Scylla pulled at her shirt to expose the bloody area where a stab wound should have been, then started nervously rubbing her hands together as though they were itchy.

“Belleweather.” Izadora answered. “The agents on the ground said she’d gone back and tried to heal Raelle. Instead, she too died. I Imagine that is why you’re still here. She healed her just enough to save your life.”

Scylla looked down at her hands, the rubbing motion that she had been doing stopped with a realization.

_Abigail Belleweather saved my life._

“Listen, I realize that these events have been traumatic. For the both of you. Unfortunately, we’ve missed our window to get to the rendezvous. The next shift will be starting soon, and they will not change out again until morning. I’ll be back before sunrise and we’ll make our move then. We will not get another chance. Scylla’s execution is scheduled for 8 am.” Izadora grimaced and then made to leave before either woman could fully grasp what she had said.

_Execution?_

Scylla’s eyes flashed with a silver of alertness at the word.

“Execution? Now how in the hell did she get sentenced to death so quick? I’ve been here on treason charges for years!” Rita was instantly filled with concern, that was bordering on dread.

She still hadn’t fully grieved for her niece and now the one who had been closest to her would be lost to her as well?

“She will be Alder’s scapegoat for her recent failures.” Izadora explained. “Alder hasn’t shown any progress towards finishing off the Spree and their… _our_ attacks have accelerated over the past few months. Alder is looking weaker by the day and her influence and power at the Hauge is diminishing. If she can make a public display of her death, of a Spree agent’s death, she will gain back some badly needed respect.”

“Damn you, Alder.” Rita grimaced. She gave a pitying glance to Scylla. The body next to her once again looked vacant. “Damn you.” Rita said again, this time under her breath.

Izadora did not want to be held up again, and she would be of no comfort to the grieving women. In order to not be caught by the imminent patrols, she quickly stepped back out of the cell and disappeared down the hall. A light of a flame briefly casting a shifting shadow on the on the stones as she went.

Rita slid down against the cell wall and was just about rest her eyes when a timid voice made her flicker awake.

“What do thing it will be like?” Scylla asked, “Dying?”

“Hey, don’t you worry about that now. No one’s dyin’. Dora will get us to the boat and on our way to the safehouse tomorrow mornin’, no problem. Jus’ be a lil’ late, is all.”

Scylla smiled a small sad smile and shook her head. She sighed deeply, resting her back against the wall. She pulled her knees up to her chest and circled them with her arms.

“You shouldn’t bother. I’m not worth all this trouble. You and Izadora should just leave. In fact, I’m sure my execution would be the perfect distraction for you to make your escape.”

“That’s enough of that talk!” Rita moved over to Scylla and placed her hands on the younger girl’s knees. “I don’t know what you’ve done or think you’ve done that you think dyin’ is the answer, but I’ll tell you right now, it’s not. Raelle sure as hell wouldn’t think so.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Scylla smiled, but there were tears in her eyes that quickly began running down her face. “One of the last things she said to me was ‘We all go sometime’.” She let out a small sardonic laugh.

“She was hurtin’, and she took it out on you because you were the one that cause her that pain.” Scylla sniffled and rubbed her nose at Rita’s words “But you don’t deserve to die ‘cause of that.

“I’m the reason Raelle is dead! I was supposed to deliver her to the Spree….and now…now she’s gone. All because I screwed up!” Scylla pushed Rita’s hands away and pulled into herself, bring her head to her knees.

“You couldn’t ‘ve known this was gonna happen.” Rita backed away from the girl and rested back against the parallel wall. “Even knowers don’t see everythin’ coming.” Rita tried to control her own grief and hold back a sniffle. They’d have time to grieve properly later.

“Now get some rest. We will be leaving before dawn.”

***

“Scylla. Scylla!”   
  


Scylla woke with a shock and jumped back at the unfamiliar witch shaking her.

“It’s Dora, girl. Now come here, put these on, the wind will bite your ass off.” Rita held up a pair of boots and a thick wool coat. She was already dressed in a hat pulled down over her ears and sweater covering up the majority of her body.

Scylla shook her head into focus, still trying to calm her beating heart and moved to the clothes from Rita’s hands. For some reason, her mouth felt rough, as though she had just eaten sand. She ran her tongue over her teeth and swallowed trying to make the affronting texture disappear.

“I took out the knower in the watchtower and the guard down the east hallway. We should have a clear path to the boat.” The unfamiliar witch, who was supposedly Lieutenant L’Amara, said. “Follow me.”

The three women made their way quickly down the hall.

Scylla tried to take in everything as they moved quickly. When she had come in, her head had been covered and she had no chance to see the prison.

The darkness of the fort really added to its threatening manner. The moonlight coming through the barred windows highlighted the rusty metal bars of the cells that they passed. Inside each cell, with its rough stone walls and dirt floors were two to three sleeping bodies.

Witches who had been sentenced to die or live out the rest of their lives in this depressing place were kept in antiquated rooms, if you could call them that, with no beds and only a hole in the corner to relive themselves.

Scylla was glad she would never have to spend any real time in this place. It made her accommodations at Fort Salem look like a five-star resort.

“Right down here.” They’d arrived at a small staircase that led down into the rocky waters. The witch that was Izadora took out a lighter and brought it to her chin. With a flick of her thumb it ignited, and a flame overtook her face, quickly transforming her into the Izadora that Scylla was familiar with.

After the transformation, they continued down the staircase and trudged through the icy waters just a short ways around a rock to find a small craft that looked as though it was barely staying above water.

“We’re supposed to get back to the continent in this?” Scylla questioned.

“We’re jus’ takin’ this to meet the others. Don’t you worry.” Rita smiled and patted Scylla on the back followed by a shove towards the dingy.

She boarded the vessel and sat down on the far end. Izadora shoved an oar into her hands and took the other herself, Rita sitting in the middle. Scylla followed Izadora’s rowing pattern and they slowly left the shores of the prison.

“That seemed easy. Too easy.” Scylla said with concern.

_How could they just get away from this supposed witch prison without coming across even one guard?_

“The navy needed extra soldiers to be on the lookout for a planned spree attack near Puerto Rico’s shores. Supposedly, an incoming hurricane is going to make landing and take out the entire west shore. Or at least that’s what intelligence was told.” Izadora smiled, obviously proud of her ruse. “They left an hour ago. No reason to guard this old place so heavily while all the prisoners are sleeping.”

They rowed for was seemed like hours, but was in fact only about twenty minutes, before they caught a glance of another boat. The other vessel was much larger, with a power motor attached to the stern and headlights at its bow and above the steering wheel. At the helm a body could be made out, surrounded by three other standing silhouettes and one sitting near the motor.

Scylla was grateful that they had made it. Her arms were burning from strain and her hands were beginning to form blisters where the oar had chafed her otherwise smooth hands. They pulled up to the side and took a rope to secure the two crafts together.

Scylla followed Izadora and Rita in putting her oar down and made to climb over into the other boat but was stopped by the hand of a young women with a stern expression on her face.

“The way over is under…” She started.

“The way out is in.” Scylla finished after a moment of surprise. Another test.

The other women back off and Scylla stepped over the side of the boat and landed solidly on the metal floor. As soon as both her feet were stead she stopped. A cold prickle began tingling up her neck causing her to turn and look at the sitting figure still obscured in the darkness.

The figure stood up and stepped forward into the light. There, stood and middle-aged woman with short cropped blonde hair and gray-blue eyes. They looked wet, as if she had been crying, but they were also hard. Scylla stopped.

_I know those eyes…_

“You were supposed to bring me my daughter.” The women spoke lightly, but there was a threatening undertone to her words.

_Oh, Goddess, no._

“Willa- “Rita started forward but was stopped when the other witch, Willa Collar, raised her hand.

“You were supposed to bring me my daughter.” She said again, this time the threat rang clear. “But you failed. And now,” She sneered, “Raelle is dead.” She took a menacing step forward towards Scylla.

Scylla tried to step back, but the edge of the boat hit the back of her knees, telling her she had nowhere to go.

“I’m a healer. All Collars are. Like my daughter was.” The word ‘was’ having a bite that tore into Scylla’s very soul. “Always fixing, taking away pain and injuries from the sick, allowing them to continue with their lives as I live with their ailments. But the thing about the way Collars heal, is it’s a little different than cannon. See we take the pain, “She stepped forward again, getting right into Scylla’s face, “And we can give it back.”

Willa lunged forward and grasped Scylla’s head in her hands.

Instantly, agonizing fire lit up Scylla’s skull. Her brain felt as though it was swelling, her sinuses were screaming. Blisters began to form on her jaw were Willa’s fingers were, cracking and pealing the skin.

Scylla tries to scream but the pain was too much for her to even take in air.

Vaguely, she was aware of her head being tugged forward as the other witches in the boat tried to pull Willa off her, but nothing could fully break past the torment that radiating through her nerves. Her vision began to blur, and her head pulsed with her heartbeat.

Then everything faded to black with one final explosion of anguish. Scylla’s body hit the hard-cold floor of the boat with a thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear. That did not go well. Comments and Kudos always appreciated!


	6. Shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the lack of an update last week. Health troubles got in the way. But! Chapter 7 may be earlier than next week! Enjoy this update! (Also I've realized I've been typing Belleweather vs Bellweather so from here on out it will be correct)

Luxurious, bordering on ostentatious.

Raelle couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the details of the immense dining room that surrounded her. Her nearly empty steaming stew of beef and potatoes sat forgotten as she took in the ancient tribal masks, elaborate tapestries, and priceless paintings that covered each and every wall.

Even the walls themselves were works of art with crown molding that was engraved with intricate floral patterns that supported the white stained wood paneling and trellis wallpaper that covered the room. There were exposed beams supporting the angled ceilings that collided at one point where great crystal chandeliers hung from gleaming golden chains.

_Bet it was real gold, too. This place is ridiculous. There’s no way anyone actually lives here. How could-_

“…from, Raelle?”

The sound of her name brought Raelle back to table, both Abigail and her sister ( _Sister?_ ) sat looking expectantly at her.

Raelle stared back in confusion, having not been listening to the conversation at all.

“Sorry, what?”

Abigail rolled her eyes.

“Chippewa Cession. Near the Carolina border.” Abigail answered for her, giving Raelle a small kick in the shins for her obliviousness.

“Oh Chippewa!” the other girl exclaimed, ignoring Raelle’s pointed glare at Abigail. “I went there with an outreach group during university. Charming place! The people were so welcoming! I always wanted to go back but I got an internship at the Hague and the rest is history, as they say.”

“University? You didn’t serve?”

“No.” The other girls face seemed to fall for a minute but was quickly replaced with another smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “My father was able to get me a dispensation as I was the last of my line. My mother…my mother passed when I was just a little girl and she had no remaining relatives. My father raised me here until we moved to Annapolis when he married Petra.”

“Speaking of my mother,” Abigail interjected, pushing her own empty bowl forward, “I should give her a call. She should know we’re not dead.” Abigail stood up and pushed her chair in. “Thank you, Claire, for your hospitality. Raelle and I should be headed back to Fort Salem by morning.”

Claire cocked her head to the side with a puzzled expression on her face. “Call your mother? But you already have. General Bellweather and Lieutenant …Quartermaine, I believe it was, will be heading this way soon. Are you feeling all right Abigail?”

Abigail paused and scrunched her eyes in confusion.

Raelle, too, stopped as she was getting up.

_We did call…but, why can’t I remember?_

“Right. Of course.” Abigail swatted her sister’s outreached hand away and backed up. “It’s been a long few days. I think I just need some sleep. Coming Raelle?”

Raelle nodded and followed her out of the room.

Neither girl noticed Claire’s concerned expression turn into a small smile as they walked away.

***

“So…you have a sister?” Raelle pulled the sheet down from the queen-sized bed, only to be met with another sheet neatly tucked below that one.

_Damn High Atlantics. Though are they High Atlantics if we're in Russia? Huh.  
_

“No. Claire is a Tanner, not a Bellweather.”

“But she called you her sister?”

Abigail huffed and got into her own bed, obviously not concerned by the exorbitant amount of bedding.

“Yes. We have the same father, so she does that occasionally, to get under my skin. We do not have the same mother, so we’re not sisters”

“So, you’re half-sisters. Still sisters.”

Abigail sat up.

“That’s not how that works. I’m a Bellweather. Claire is a Tanner.” She repeated herself with emphasis, “We come from different matrilines and will carry on our own lines. If you have to be technical, then yes, we are half-sisters. But Libba Swythe was more my sister than Claire Tanner will ever be.”

“Harsh.”

“You need to be careful around her, Raelle. She’s not some innocent civilian. She may not be part of the military but that doesn’t mean she’s harmless. She’s always been very good at manipulating people to get what she wants, with or without using work. She once convinced me that I was surrounded by spiders when she was supposed to be teaching me how to swim, just because she was upset that she had to watch me for an afternoon. She was nine.”

Raelle shuddered, her own skin pricking at the thought.

“Okay so this whole nice caring sister thing is an act?”

“Exactly. If I’d known she was here, I never would’ve suggested this place. We just need to wait for my mother to get here and then leave, immediately.”

Raelle sat up as a thought struck her.

“Abigail…how do we know your mom is coming, again?”

“I talked to her on the phone. She and Anacostia are on their way.”

Raelle shook her head, trying to clear a sudden fogginess that came over her.

“What did she say on the phone? Exactly.”

Abigail stopped from moving further below the covers and sat back up as she tried to recall the conversation. Her eyes widened a bit and she looked up at Raelle.

“I … I can’t remember.”

Raelle got out of the bed and began pacing.

“We came up over the hill. We walked into the house, found Claire talking on the phone. You explained our situation…” Raelle stopped and then looked up at Abigail, “…and then we ate dinner? That’s all that happened today, right?”

Abigail frowned.

“I think so?” She stood up next to Raelle. “But why doesn’t that feel right?”

“You said that Claire can make you think whatever she wants right?”

“Yeah, she’s always been good with that piece of work.”

“What if…what if she’s making us believe that we’ve called your mother…but we never did? Is that something she’d be capable of?”

Abigail sat down on the bed and brought her head to hands “Fuck me.”

“So, when did we call Fort Salem? How can we not remember telling your mother we aren’t dead? Why didn’t I call my dad? He has to be heartbroken right now, thinking I’m dead. I need to call him!”

Raelle moved to the door to head towards the phone but Abigail’s hand on her shoulder held her back.

“Raelle, wait!” Abigail moved between Raelle and the door and gave the shorter girl a gentle push backwards.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know Claire has something to do with it. We can’t just rush out there without having an idea of how much she knows, or what kind of game she’s playing.”

“So, what do we do? We can’t just stay here forever with your psycho sister!”

“Of course not. We just…have to have some kind of plan first.”

“Well, I’m going to call my dad.” Raelle pushed past Abigail into the hallway.

“What about Claire?” Abigail whispered after her.

“Distract her!”

Abigail sighed as she watched Raelle stalk down the hallway.

“Shitbird.” She muttered and went off in the opposite direction.

***

“Come on, come on, pick up.” Raelle waited anxiously as the line rang.

_Maybe he’s sleeping. Or maybe they brought him up to Fort Salem for the funeral…Or maybe they didn’t even tell him yet and he won’t know why I’m calling him three days into the mission. If its only been three days…_

All the sudden the line clicked as it was picked up on the other side.

“Pop?” Raelle listened as there was a quick intake of breath on the other side but that was only followed by silence. “Pop, are you there? Can you hear me? Listen, I don’t know how long I have or what you’ve heard but I’m with Abigail in Russia and –“ the line clicked dead.

“Raelle? What are you doing? I thought you and Abigail had gone to bed?”

Raelle turned slowly to see Claire’s outline at the end of the hallway. Somehow, she managed to look both innocent and ominous at the same time.

_Play dumb._

“I uh…couldn’t sleep. I just wanted to talk to my dad.” Raelle shook the phone in her hand and then slowly went to hang it back up, trying to control her pounding heart in her chest.

“Your dad?” Claire cocked her head, “I thought you said you called him earlier and he said he was heading up to Fort Salem to wait for your return.”

Raelle was almost overcome as her mind dulled over. Suddenly, she was struck with the memory of a phone call with her father.

_Oh, right. He did say that. What am I doing?_

Raelle looked back up at Claire to find a soft warm smile on her hostess’ face.

“Yeah.” Raelle shook her head, trying to clear it, “I must have had a weird dream. I must need sleep. I’ll uh, head back to bed.” Raelle moved away from the phone and started back towards the bedroom.

“Have a goodnight, Raelle” Claire called after her.

Raelle acknowledged her with a small nod and continued down the hallway.

Once she was back in the bedroom, she found Abigail there, already deeply buried within the covers.

“Where’d you go?” Abigail mumbled out without looking at Raelle.

“Just went to clear my head. We can talk more in the morning. Goodnight.”

“’Night.”

Raelle moved to get into the bed where she found the top sheet was still tightly tucked under the bed, as if no one had slept there yet.

_Weird._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...Claire is delightful isn't she? Kudos, Comments all welcome!


	7. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update!

_An empty mall._

_“Hello?” Scylla calls out as she continues down the widening gray hallway._

_No response._

_Lights flickered on and off ominously around her. She takes another step forward._

_The hallway seems to lengthen again, the end vanishing further into blackness. The walls growing taller, transforming to floors upon floors with balconies and glass barriers._

_Another step._

_All the sudden, she stops, as she feels something under her right foot._

_Scylla takes a step back and bends down to find a white ribbon attached to a popped balloon on the floor._

_Blue._

_She goes to examine it closer-_

_She jumps back as a body collides with the ground right in front of her, blood instantly leaking out from its head._

_Scylla gasps and scurries away from the corpse as more and more bodies join the first all around her. Men, woman, children, all falling and fatally landing with sickening thuds._

_She stands and runs towards the nearest door, tugging it open._

_A garage._

_“No, there’s no one else here.” A muffled voice can be heard from the other side of the door._

_Scylla’s heart stops as she recognizes the voice._

_Dad._

_She pushes herself up to the now wooden door, peeling paint rough against her face as she tries to listen to what is happening._

_“We have rights. We are U.S. citizens!”_

_Mom!_

_“Listen, we will fully comply. We were just- Wait, what are you do- “_

_A thud can barely be heard under the sound of a high-pitched seed ringing out._

_Another thud follows._

_“No!” Scylla screams and tears the door open and runs through._

_She’s outside. The sun shining brightly overhead, birds chirping in the distance._

_It’s beautiful day._

_“Help! Somebody, help me!”_

_Raelle!_

_Scylla runs around the corner of the building but stops suddenly when she sees Raelle huddled over Porter Tippet’s dying body._

_Raelle collapses as she fails to heal the boy, her own skin fading as her eyes fall shut._

_“Raelle!”_

_Scylla runs forward and pulls Raelle’s body over into her lap. She runs her hands over the other girl’s face, feeling her cold skin under her palm._

_No! No this can’t be happening._

_“Grr-a-Ah!” Porter’s dead corpse groans as his neck twists in an unnatural way so that his glazed-over eyes were staring directly at Scylla._

_She stares back. Her heart pounding._

_“I am filled…with an unbearable sadness.” He croaks._

_A great white flash consumes everything around Scylla, instantly blinding her._

Scylla shot up, gasping. Her chest heaves and sweat drips down her face and the small of her back. She takes small shallow breaths.

_In and out. In and out. In. And out._

Slowly, she is able to control her breathing and bring her heart rate down. However, the calm she is able to achieve is short lived as she recalls the nightmares she had just had.

_No, not nightmares. Memories._

Deep, nauseating guilt pools in ger gut.

_The mall._

_My parents._

_Porter._

Each casualty weighs heavily on her mind as she relives each and every one of their deaths over and over again.

_“I want to know how someone gets to be you.”_

_“Lots of practice.”_

Scylla grips the bed sheet tightly in her palms, hoping that the pain of her nails digging in her skin would stop the spiral of remorse from overtaking.

_Sheets._

The sudden realization of where she was, or wasn’t more accurately, pulled her from her damning thoughts.

She was in a bed, two soft white striped pillows were behind her, a worn but warm green, brown and red patchwork quilt covered her legs.

As she looked around, she could barely make out the white wood paneling behind the hundreds of postcards that covered the walls. Dried herbs and bundles of sage hung sporadically about the room. Wispy see-through fabric covered the windows, letting the natural sunlight brighten the room. A wooden chair sat in the corner of the room.

There were two small combat charmed centered right in the middle the chair.

_Oh, Goddess._

Scylla pulled her legs out from under the quilt, stopping as pain suddenly shot up her spine. After taking a deep breath, she gingerly continued, slowly moving one leg at a time until she had both feet on the ground. Using the edge of the bed for support, she moved to stand, noticing for the first time her clothing. Wool socks, flannel pants, and a red T-shirt with a worn yellow graphic on the front.

Scylla was filled with conflicting feelings of warmth and dread as her suspicions of just whose clothes she was in were confirmed once she got close enough to read one of the many postcards on the wall.

_To/ Raelle Collar_

_Box 1748_

_Chippewa Cession_

_U.S.A_

Scylla trailed her fingers along the wall as she walked towards the chair. Once there, she bent down and cautiously picked up the combat charm with the bowerbird skull and held it between her hands. She softly caressed the blond braid of hair that was woven into the charm between her fingers.

“Her Sergeant gave me that at the ah…at the funeral.”

Scylla nearly dropped the charm when the voice behind her startled her out of her own thoughts. She turned quickly, moving to hide the bird skull behind her back.

Before her stood a middle-aged man, balding, with kind sad eyes smiling softly from the doorway. He didn’t move any further into the room, keeping his distance from the obviously skittish girl.

“I’m Edwin.” He offered after a moment of silence. “Raelle’s father.”

_Of course._

Scylla continued to stand there silently observing the man. The wounds of her recent encounter with Raelle’s other parent were still fresh and though this man looked harmless, he could still pose a threat in her weakened state.

“It’s good to see ya up. You’ve been sleepin’ better part of a week now. It was touch and go for a while.” He stepped fully into the room but made sure to keep his distance and kept the bed between himself and Scylla.

Scylla was beginning to wonder if it was for her comfort or his, with the way he kept his eyes focused on her, his shoulders tense.

“How’d I get here?” She swallowed, her voice hoarse after disuse.

“Rita brought you here after the ah…incident.” He raised his hand up to scratch the back of his head and looked over at Scylla sheepishly. “I’m sorry bout’ Wills, she’s always had a temper.”

Scylla bit her lip at the man’s guilt for his wife’s actions. Guilt he should not be feeling.

_If anything, I’m the guilty one. I deserved everything Willa did to me….and more. I’m the reason that his daughter is…dead._

“Rita filled me in on a lot when y’all first got here. Willa, the Spree, you.”

Scylla’s heart dropped.

“If you know who I am….and what I’ve done…why are you helping me?”

_What is wrong with this civilian man? Does he not watch the news?_

“Raelle loves…loved you. Wouldn’t’ve made you that if she didn’t” He gestured to the combat charm that was still clasped in Scylla’s hand. “I know she’d want me to keep you safe, no matter what. So, that’s what I’m gonna do.” He finished with determination in his voice.

“There’s some people who’d like to see ya when you’re up for it. Come out to the livin’ room when you’re ready.”

Edwin moved back to the door and leaves Scylla standing alone in Raelle’s room.

***

Not too long after Edwin leave’s, Scylla follows. She couldn’t stand to keep looking at the walls of her dead girlfriend’s childhood bedroom. Am memorial frozen in time.

She walks through the hanging beads at the doorway and heads towards the quiet sound of voices coming from the front of the small home.

As she passes through the kitchen, she catches sight of vibrant red hair in a mirror around the corner. A pair of dark brown eyes connects with her own blue one’s and before she knows what’s happening Scylla is being enveloped in a crushing hug.

“Tally…hi…I” Tally briefly pulls back to stare at Scylla, but her face instantly crumbles, and she pulls Scylla back into a hug.

“Scylla, I’m so sorry for everything! I never should have told anyone about the bathroom! I swear if I could…” The rest of Tally’s seemingly endless apologies are muffled as Scylla’s own guilt continues to rise.

_Why is everyone else taking the blame for what I did? It’s all my fault! I’m the reason her unit is dead! Raelle is dead because of me!_

_This has to end._

“…you could have died! I don’t know what I would do if- “

“Tally! Tally, stop!” Scylla gave the taller girl a gentle shake.

“You were right to turn me in. You were right. I was Spree all along. I hurt Raelle, in so many ways and I’m the reason… I got what I deserved for what I did. I’m a terrorist. They would have been right to execute me.” Scylla grimaced and let go of the now silent girl with a slight push.

Tally looked ready to argue again but Scylla put up a hand to stop her.

“I thought I heard you sacrificed yourself for Alder and became one of her biddies. How are you even here?”

“I found replacements.” Scylla’s eyes shot over to Anacostia Quartermaine, who she just noticed even though the other woman had been standing in the living room this entire time. “There’s a protocol to follow when it comes to that ceremony and Private Craven should never have been put in such a position.”

“And when we heard about the prison escape, I had a feeling about where you might’ve gone.” Tally smiled weakly.

“And you came here to help me? Isn’t that dangerous considering…” Scylla gave a pointed look over at Sergeant Quartermaine.

_Alder’s right hand suddenly goes missing after her return from a disastrous mission…not suspicious at all._

“The General is too busy hunting down the members of Petra Bellweather’s attempted coup to worry about my whereabouts. Lieutenant L’Amara is keeping both the generals preoccupied. It’s the least she can do after deceiving me all these years.” Anacostia’s jaw tightened.

_Interesting._

“No to mention, Alder also has two new Biddies to bring into the fold while recovering from her own near-death experience.” Anacostia added. “In the meantime, I thought is was best to unite Private Craven with the one person I know is most likely to help rescue Private’s Bellweather and Collar.”

Scylla’s heart stopped.

“Rescue? But Izadora said…”

_“No survivors.”_

_“A second attack commenced resulting in the deaths of two of Alder’s Biddies, as well as Privates Belleweather and Collar.”_

“They’re not dead.” Tally said with such conviction that Scylla had to believe her, if just for a moment. “I would know.”

“But she was stabbed through the heart! There was so much blood!” Scylla couldn’t afford to get her hopes up.

_Raelle is dead._

_She is dead and it’s all my fault._

“How’d you know about that?” Tally looked confused with Scylla’s detailed recollection.

“There was an explosion as the team was escaping the Camarilla. Private Craven believes, as do I, that Collar and Bellweather were the source of that explosion. Izadora still doesn’t fully understand the Mycelium, or it’s link to Raelle Collar…or yourself.”

“Abigail’s mom demanded that they send back a team to retrieve the bodies that day. Only, when our troops arrived, there was nothing left. The ground was just covered with mushrooms and a strange black soot. A Necro division was sent in to collect samples.”

 _No bodies….so there’s a chance then…_ ” Raelle’s still alive.”

“Yes.” Tally put a gentle hand on Scylla’s shoulder. “And we’re going to bring our girls home.”

***

“And that’s how I found her, covered in grease, stuck between the axel and the wheel well.” Edwin chuckled as he finished story. “Car never ran the same again. But Raelle sure fixed it. Coulda made a fine mechanic.”

The others at the kitchen table; Rita, Anacostia, Tally, and Scylla all laughed as they all imagined a tiny Raelle fixing an antique truck with nothing but a wrench and her own willpower. 

“Could you pass the pepper, Mr. Collar?” Scylla asked politely as she eyed the condiment on the far side of the table. Her stomach continued to grumble, even after two servings of Edwin Collar’s famous roasted chicken and potatoes. Nearly five days without a proper meal would do that to you.

“Now, none of that. It’s Ed. We’re not so formal ‘round these parts. _Mr. Collar.._.pfft” he passed the pepper with a shake of his head and small wink.

“Thank you… _Ed_.” Scylla gave a small in return.

All the sudden, the joyful atmosphere was interrupted by the shrill ringing of a phone.

“Eh excuse me, it’s probably Bart from down the road needin’ to borrow my ladder again. He has this damn dog that keeps gettin’ out onto the roof somehow. Just a min’.” Edwin moved to get the phone, crawling behind the women as he navigated through the small kitchen.

“Wait!” Tally shouts, stopping everyone in their tracks.

The phone rings again.

“Scylla.” Tally’s eyes are wide. “You should answer it.”

Scylla swallows the bite of food she has in her mouth and looks over at Edwin for confirmation.

He shrugs his shoulders and gestures to the still ringing phone.

Scylla quickly grabs a napkin to the wipe her mouth and rises to pick up the phone.

At first there is no one there, but then-

 _“Pop?”_ Raelle voice could be heard on the other side of the line.

_“Pop, are you there? Can you hear me? Listen, I don’t know how long I have or what you’ve heard but I’m with Abigail in Russia and – “_

The line went dead.

“Raelle?” Scylla finally said after a moment of silence.

There was no answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give Scylla a virtual hug would you? Poor girl. Comments and kudos always appreciated!


	8. Reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of updates! I'll try to be better going forward, I really will!

“…from, Raelle?”

_Huh?_

Raelle blinked her eyes and focused. She was in the dining room; Abigail was to her left and Claire was sitting across from her. A bowl of warm hot stew sat before her on the table, untouched.

“Sorry, what?”

_What am I doing back here? Last thing I remember, I went to sleep. And then…_

“Chippewa Cession. Near the Carolina border.”

Raelle looked towards Abigail who was staring at her own bowl of stew, absentmindedly stirring her spoon in circles. She hadn’t looked up when she spoke, her face blank and emotionless.

“Oh Chippewa!” Claire exclaimed, “I went there…” Raelle stopped listening.

_We’ve had this conversation already! What the hell is goin’ on?_

Raelle tried to catch Abigail’s eyes but the other girl’s gaze remained focused on the food in front of her.

“…internship at the Hague and the rest is history, as they say.” Claire finished talking and smiled sweetly at Raelle, as if she was waiting for something.

Raelle gave one last glance at Abigail and then turned to face Claire.

“You know Claire, I’m really tired from the journey. I think I’m going to go rest for a bit.” Claire’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but she quickly schooled her features and plastered on another smile.

It didn’t reach her eyes and there was something in the upturn of her lip that caused the hair on the back of Raelle’s neck to raise.

_This is not good._

“Of course1” Claire stood and pushed herself up from the table, “You must be exhausted after your long journey! Abigail can show you to the guest bedroom, down the hall. If you need anything, anything at all, just call out. I’ll just clean up in here.” She quickly took the dishes away and scurried off towards the kitchen. “Let me know if you need anything!” She shouted from down the hall.

Abigail sat back in her chair and gave Raelle a wary look. “Follow me.” She stood, keeping her eyes focused on Raelle. She gestured down the hall and Raelle moved towards where she knew the guest bedroom was.

As soon as the girls were in the room and the door was closed, Raelle turned on Abigail.

“Bellweather! What the hell is going on? We already had that conversation! Last thing I remember – “

“Finally!” Abigail cut Raelle off and grasped the shorter girl’s shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug. “We’ve been here for nearly a week, where Claire’s been making us relive the same day over and over again. This is the first time you’ve noticed.”

“What? Why would she do that?”

“She has to be waiting for something. Or someone. I’ve been trying to figure out what her game is, while still keeping an eye on you.”

“How come you remember everything?”

“I think I’ve become immune to this type of work from her. Like I said, she used it on me when we were kids...Actually, you may not remember that conversation…” Abigail trailed off.

“Forget that!” Raelle grabbed onto Abigail’s shoulders and pulled the other girl’s focus back with a gentle shake. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“Right.” Abigail nodded in agreement. “I’ve been working on how to get us out of here. There’s a truck outside near the east garden. No idea where the keys for that are though…”

“Won’t be a problem.” Raelle grabbed onto Abigail’s hand and pulled her out of the bedroom.

_You can hotwire a truck, Raelle! You’ve done it enough to Pop’s hunk of junk. You just have to make sure get it right on the first try…_

As soon as they were in the hall, Raelle stopped suddenly, causing the taller girl to stumble into to her. “Which way is east?” Raelle asked, her confidence slipping a bit.

“It’s that way. Why do you ask?”

Raelle froze.

Both witches turned slowly to see Claire standing under the arch of the door, head tilted, a knowing smile on her face.

_Shit._

***

“This is absolutely fascinating.” Izadora lifted yet another fungi specimen from the transformed ground and carefully examined the cap and stump. “This species thriving in this desert climate is unheard of. Ramshorn! Come bag a specimen and- “

‘Lieutenant! We are not here to collect mushrooms.” General Bellweather scolded from her position near the helicopter. “We are here to locate Privates Bellweather and Collar. We have a timeline to keep and an enemy that could still be nearby. Move out!”

“Of Course, General.” Without another word, the lieutenant stood up and readied herself to follow the group over the ridge. Izadora did, however, manage to covertly tuck a small specimen of the fungus she had had in her hand into her pack for later examination.

“How’re you holding up?” Tally whispered into Scylla’s ear. She was so close that Scylla could feel the other’s girl’s breath on her neck.

“Never better. I just love having a U.S. military general five feet away from me days after they sentenced me to death.” Scylla rolled her eyes, steadfastly ignoring said general’s burning gaze that she’d felt on the back of her head the entire trip to the Altai Mountains.

_It’s as if she blames me for this whole disaster of a mission and not Alder._

“Right.” Tally winced. “I’m sorry about that, but time wasn’t on our side Abigail’s mom was the only one that I was sure would help us. Not to mention, she has access to a private helicopter.” Tally gestured back to the large black copter behind them. “And when we told her about Russia, she knew where they most likely went.”

“I understand.” Scylla said tersely.

They really wouldn’t have been able to get here so quickly without the help of Petra Bellweather. Scylla had grudgingly relented when Tally had argued that the elder Bellweather would overlook two prison escapees if it meant ensuring her daughter’s safe return.

_I can work with her, for now. But the second her daughter is safe, she’ll turn on me._

“Seriously though, how are you?” Tally stops Scylla with a hand gently placed on her shoulder. Her eyes are full of concern as she glances towards the Necro’s hands. Scylla had been running her thumb over the smooth surface of her left hand, trying to feel the connection between herself and Raelle that had abandoned her days ago.

_She was alive._

_Raelle was alive and they were going to rescue her._

The mantra repeated in her head over and over, calming her unstable nerves as best it could.

Noticing the other girl’s gaze, Scylla immediately walked faster and pulled her pack higher onto her back.

“I really am sorry.” Tally huffed as she caught up.

“We’ve discussed this. You have nothing to be sorry about. You were right about who I was, and you reported the intel to your superiors. Like any good soldier would.”

Tally frowned at the tone of disgust when Scylla said the word ‘soldier’, her disapproval of the military ringing clear. “I wasn’t right about everything. I thought you were going to hurt Raelle.”

Scylla stopped walking and quickly turned on Tally.

“I would never- “

“I know!” Tally cuts her off. “I know.” She repeats taking a step back.

Scylla swallows, the defensiveness quickly being swallowed by guilt.

“Except I have, haven’t I? Hurt her.”

_Betrayed her trust…_

“You lied to Raelle. It’s understandable to feel guilty.” There was no judgement in Tally’s voice, it was just a statement of fact. “You’ve also killed thousands of people. Innocent civilians who don’t see the difference between the Spree or the military. We’re all just witches to them. I haven’t been inside your head, not like I have with Alder,” Scylla shuddered at the thought of knowing what she must have seen. Witnessing the countless deaths of mothers and sisters, generation after generation. “So, I don’t know why you did what you did. How you could justify more violence and think that would bring anything other than more pain and chaos. You can either live with that guilt or you will die with it. Either way, it won’t leave you.”

Scylla stopped walking so suddenly that Tally nearly stumbled into her.

She frowned.

“You think I feel guilty about the humans that I’ve killed?” She was genuinely baffled.

“Well, yeah...” Tally stammered.

“Let’s get one thing clear, Craven. I feel guilty about lying to Raelle. About deceiving her and making her doubt my feelings for her. But,” Scylla stepped forward until she was right under the taller girl’s chin, “I feel no guilt, whatsoever, about the lives I’ve taken for the Spree. Innocent!” Scylla scoffed, “Every. Single. Once of them. Is guilty.”

Tally took a step back, but Scylla stepped forward to regain the ground between them.

“We fight their wars.” Step. “We die for them.” Step. make it so they can continue their peaceful, oblivious, ignorant, existence,” Step. Step. Step.” Without a single worry.” She took one final step so that her nose was merely centimeters from Tally’s chin. “The blood that we spill is on _their_ hands. Don’t for a second think that they would sacrifice the privileges they have, that we allow them to have, when they won’t even acknowledge those privileges to begin with.”

“So, you think that just because they were not born witches it justifies you killing them?” Tally’s gaze hardened and Scylla felt the air crackle slightly around them.

“Yes.” Scylla tried to sound confident, but her voice wavered.

“What would you have them do to absolve themselves of the _crime_ of existing?” Tally towered over the shorter witch, moving forward in a way that made Scylla have to shift backwards.

“I don’t know.”

“Would you just kill them all? Eradication of the species.”

“Maybe.” Another step back.

“So, you’d kill Raelle’s father?”

Scylla stopped.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as flashes of a warm smile and kind eyes flashed before her.

She’d known Edwin Collar for not more than a day but the similarities between the man and the woman she loved meant she would never want to see any harm come to him.

_No._

“That’s what I thought.” Tally backed off, as if Scylla had spoken out loud, and turned to walk on. Her point had been made.

Scylla swallowed as she silently followed behind, the rest of the group trudging on as if they hadn’t heard anything.

The weight of all that she had done was finally starting to weigh on her for the first time.

She didn’t necessarily feel guilty for what she had done. Years of hatred and blame wouldn’t fade so quickly. But there was certainly a twinge of … something deep insider chest when she thought of all the lives she had ended for the Spree. For a cause that she wasn’t quite sure about and for a group whose methods were suddenly giving her trepidation.

Scylla was reminded of that small girl at the mall right before she uttered the words that would take so many lives.

_Did she survive?_

_Probably not._

“So, what should I do now?” Scylla asked quietly as she caught up to Tally.

_How do I make this sickening feeling go away? Is this what guilty feels like?_

“You move forward.” Tally gave Scylla small smile and shoved her gently with her shoulder. “Guilt is a good thing.”

Scylla scoffed. “How?” The churning in her stomach and the vice-like grip on her lungs certainly didn’t feel good.

“It motivates you to right your wrongs”

“No one can bring back the dead, Tally, not even a Necro.”

“No, of course not. That’s not what I meant. You need to find the part of you that’s good, the part of you that Raelle saw in you from the moment she met you. And you hold onto that part of yourself. It will lead you down the right path.”

Tally offered another small smile and walked ahead, leaving Scylla to think on what was said.

However, Scylla was quickly pulled from her thoughts from the sound of arguing behind her.

“You should not underestimate Claire Tanner! You have no idea what that girl is capable of.” Petra Bellweather said.

“You’re afraid of one young witch? There’s six of us and just one a’ her!” Rita Collar stood right in front of Petra in a way that reminded Scylla of how Raelle and Abigail used to be at each other’s throats.

“We don’t know that for sure.” Lieutenant L’Amara said, sheepishly tilting her head when Rita glared at her. “We don’t. There was no sign of the Camarilla back at the drop site and Miss Tanner has no military record to speak of. We must consider that she may be working other parties.”

“How in the hell did she get out of serving?” Rita asked incredulously.

“It is standard for the last of a line to be recused from service.” Petra supplied, and Scylla saw Tally’s gaze harden.

_She’s lying about something._

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Otherwise my niece never woulda been here. Or your daughter for that matter.”

“My daughter chose to come on this mission of her own volition.” The general ground out. “As for Claire’s lack of military service, when the girl’s mother passed, I ensured that she received a dispensation, per her father’s request. I do admit that the girl’s proclivities for misusing her work gave me reservations about her service as well. She was already dangerous, even without military training. I don’t even want to imagine what she would have been capable of with it.”

“If you knew of a witch that was using work outside of military exercises, you should have reported her.” Anacostia stepped in. The use of work outside the military was strictly forbidden and should have been met with severe consequences.

Consequences Scylla was all too familiar with.

“She was a child. One who had just lost her mother and gained a replacement all within in a matter of months. I thought that she would grow out such behavior.” Petra sighed, “However, after Abigail’s birth, I didn’t see much of her or her father. I went back into service and before long, my arrangement with Abraham Ward had concluded. When Claire turned eighteen, I made sure she had an internship with the Hague and that was the last I had heard or even thought of her. Until now, that is.”

“High Atlantics handing out dispensations to whoever they like! Woulda been nice if I…”

Scylla zoned out of the conversation as they continued to argue and place blame on each other.

She looked down at her left and hand and started to once again run her thumb over her palm.

_I hope you’re okay Raelle._

_Please be okay._

_***_

“Raelle? Are you okay? Raelle, can you hear me?”

“Mmrrg” Raelle groaned as she lifted her head that felt as though it weighed an extra ton and her chest felt as though she had been hit with a wind strike. She squinted and rubbed at her eyes trying to clear the inky darkness from her vision and attempted to focus on the sound of Abigail’s voice quietly whispering her name.

Once she was able to see clearly, the sight before her made her jump back with a gasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are like taking your mask off once you're home, they give me life!


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